obstacle 1

Zar had a surprising amount of patience these days; his threshold for irritation had increased in ways he had not expected. It was probably good, otherwise he might do something he regretted. What he did not regret, of course, were his actions and performance as Head Boy over the last month or so. He’d done swimmingly well, and was proving more and more capable as each day passed; as each sun set and then rose, he proved that he was more than capable of upholding both law and order, regardless of how discriminatory his brand of law enforcement seemed. He did not regret handing out detentions with extreme prejudice. His inability to really experience remorse was likely a sign that he was a very troubled, very dangerous boy, and he was the last one who should have really had the level of power he had, and yet…now that he had it, he wasn’t letting it go. True to his remorseless character, he, again, did not regret giving out detentions the way he did, and if anything he was completely justified. Every person he gave detention to deserved it in one way or another, even if Zar had a hard time proving it. That wasn’t wholly true, actually; he was always able to prove it; the question was whether or not the proof was legitimate. Thus far, no one had been able to tell the difference. So with his extremely prejudiced, remorseless delivery of detentions left and right, the Head Boy seemed to be very happy; one could even say that the monster lay dormant; resting while its ego remained dominant and pleased. It would have stayed that way had a certain Gryffindor not gone and mucked something up; something important enough to Balthazar to upset him when it did not go his way.

He stood in the prefect’s bathroom, the silver faucets pouring multicolored waters into the pool sized bathtub—entirely too big for one person to occupy, but wonderfully large for that reason too. Zar found it more than adequate for his ego. If only he could stop everyone else from using it. His eyes sat transfixed on the mermaid in the window, light catching his icy irises, which remained un-warmed and cold. His fingers pulled at the knot of his tie, tugging it down and loosing it before it slipped all the way through. He pulled the cloth by one of its ends and from around his neck and tossed it to the ground; his dark robes followed. He was left to fiddle with the buttons of his sleeves, mind running over what he would say to Lydia Elderwood when he say her. She was the Gryffindor who had soured his mood. Just a fifth year and already a pain in his ass. His eyes almost burned a hole through the moving mermaid; he was staring at her so intensely, as a product of Lydia Elderwood’s meddling, that he could swear he’d just inflicted a burn on the scales of the harmless glass fixture. He tore his eyes from the image just as he finished messing with his left sleeve. Moving onto the right, his thoughts shifted from what he would say to Lydia to what he would do to her. Hexing her came to mind; petrifying her and locking her in the broom closet maybe…burying her alive… The possibilities were endless. And yet, wonderful as the voice was, he didn’t want to hear Blyssenor’s mouth about what he’d done; more importantly, he didn’t want her trying to kill him. She was the last enemy he wanted, though, if he weren’t trying to win her over, he might be more inclined to piss her off just for the hell of it. As this was not his goal, he was left with just the power of his words, which were formidable, and there was already so much he could say to Lydia to throw her off her feet; he had, already, the incident with Max dancing on the tip of his tongue.

With the wrists of his sleeves unbuttoned, he started working on the main buttons of his white shirt, eyes falling to his chest while he continued to undress and simultaneously wait for Lydia. Seeing him in any state of undress was sure to throw the Head Girl far enough off her game to be incapable of really responding once Zar began to lay into her. One could be sure that Zar could have been standing in a speedo and he’d still find the power to give anyone and everyone a tongue lashing like they’d never experienced. Lydia had this waiting for her in the prefect’s bathroom; a message sent to her with a time for arrival. Right now… she was running late, which wasn’t doing anything for Zar’s already dismal mood.</li>

As if things couldn't get any worse. As it was, the lioness' nerves were already quite frayed, the result of her still grappling with her sudden appointment as Head Girl, along with the influx of responsibility on top of her course load in preparation for her OWL exams at the end of the semester. Nor did it help that only a few nights before, Lydia had had to dole out detention - along with a lengthy rant - to two of her housemates, Brydon Wilkins and James Callum-Monroe. The world kept coming at her, one thing after another, and the cherry on top of this unsavory sundae was the message from Balthazar saying to meet him in the prefects' bathroom. Just peachy. The thought of the Slytherin turned her stomach, and if the witch had her way, she would never again cross paths with the wizard despite his position as her male counterpart, the Head Boy. It was tempting to ignore his summons entirely. Much too tempting a thought. Yet the knowledge of his anger and the familiarity of his bullying outweighed the exhilarating consideration of telling Zar to just shove it. With a sigh, Lydia pulled her scarlet sweater over her head, resigning herself to the fact that it would likely be summer before she had another moment to breathe. Out of habit, she turned her gaze to her mirror. When she remembered the person she was about to see, the fifth year cringed visibly, rolling her eyes as she turned to grab her wand off her bed before heading out of her room.

Honestly, what did Blyssenor see in Balthazar? Though the two lionesses had been good friends for awhile, the red head's taste in men continued to confuse Lydia. The idea of girls going for the so-called bad boys was rampant throughout Hollywood and literature. The air of mystery and darkness - or whatever - could be attractive because it was so unpredictable. That much she understood. But really... wasn't there a line somewhere? Wasn't there some unspoken clause in Understanding the Way Girls Think 101 that said that the appeal of bad boys stopped just short of blood-thirsty psychopaths and bullies that simply could not be human for there was no way they could have possessed a heart for all the cruelty and malice they spread throughout the world? Lydia wasn't daft enough to believe that every person who walked through Slytherin was evil, but Merlin... there were more than a few rotten eggs among the snakes, so the fact that her best friend continued to go all cross-eyed and tongue-tied at boys dressed in green and silver... well, the Head Girl would never understand it. As the girl hurried through the common room and down the staircase, the image of Max Auctherlony flashed in her mind's eye, and the subsequent reaction was enough to give the witch a moment's pause. Closing her eyes, Lydia held a firm grip on the stone banister along the side of the staircase, taking in a deep breath to keep the churning of her stomach in check. It wouldn't do to judge her friend too harshly. The Slytherins had their ways of charming people, Lydia knew that much for herself.

Sighing, she continued her trek to the prefects' bathroom. It was different. Her... time with Max had been a mistake borne out of frustration and heartache. It had not been attraction to the Scottish wizard. It had not been desire that had pushed the lioness to his arms, simply a misguided attempt at hurting Kieran before they had ever managed to put an end to their mind games. Blyssenor actually felt something for those guys. And even if it had been some sort of physical or emotional attraction, Lydia had to believe that Max was the lesser of evils when it came to the Slytherin trifecta of Max, Sebastian, and Balthazar. Pushing the thoughts from her mind, the fifth year stood at the door to the bathroom, her face contorted into an expression of clear annoyance at having to meet with the Head Boy. The subject of this encounter was beyond her, though she was quite certain the meeting would be less than pleasant. Pursing her lips and doing her best to clear the frustration from her face, Lydia whispered the password and moved to step forward into the large bathroom.

It was a good moment before it registered. A fair chunk of time before it truly hit Lydia that the Head Boy was partially undressed only a short distance away and that she was, in fact, pretty much staring at his unadorned chest. Only too quickly did her cheeks flush bright pink. Turning her eyes hastily to the floor, the lioness didn't know whether to cry or to laugh at the whole situation, her body practically vibrating thanks to the nervous energy that electrified the blood running through her. "Oh honestly..." she mumbled exasperatedly. "You couldn't wait until after I left to take your clothes off? Really?" Stupid Slytherin. Stupid slimy git of a snake. Zar's state of undress only made the lioness more determined to get this whole ordeal over and done with. Breathing deeply to calm herself, Lydia turned her eyes once more to the boy a short distance away, her gaze trained on his face. Crossing her arms tightly in front of her, she waited.

If Balthazar were asked, he’d tell Lydia she hadn’t made a mistake. Her night spent with Max hadn’t been a mistake; perhaps poor judgment at the time, but not a mistake. Max didn’t think it was a mistake, and knowing that Slytherin it could have been the result of him purposefully seducing Lydia, which would really mean it wasn’t a mistake. Balthazar doubted, however, that Max would have that kind of forethought, or that kind of interest in Lydia. Zar didn’t have that kind of interest in Lydia, and their taste in girls was remarkably similar. Zar was also the one standing in the middle of the prefect’s bathroom with his shirt off hoping to use his looks to throw the Gryffindor off. Another reason Zar wouldn’t call Lydia’s night with Max a mistake was because… well, he doubted she’d be where she was at the moment if she hadn’t. Every action was a learning experience, as was every event, and Zar was sure Lydia learned a lot from the encounter. Kieran should have been praising Max. But, the most important thing: Zar wasn’t going straight for his wand. Lydia could thank Max for Balthazar’s lenience; had she not slept with him he’d have no reason not to curse her or tear her a new one in some way. He still intended to give her a piece of his mind, but at the very least he wouldn’t… do something that might upset Max. The other Slytherin didn’t admit it, but there was some residual emotional baggage there. Zar was a good enough friend not to stir trouble in the area. On second thought… perhaps he was over thinking things, or putting his inability to fully rouse all his anger on the wrong thing? Not to mention, his reasoning wasn’t quite lining up with his actions.

More than likely Lydia brought up thoughts of Blyssenor Wright, and more than likely he was trying to prove to himself that he didn’t care about her reactions by being as brutally mean to Lydia as possible; he was willing to go to the lengths of using his own body to get some kind of reaction out of her… then again, that wasn’t nearly as far as Zar could go. She stepped through the door, and the sound of it opening, and the heels of her shoes were the first sounds to hit his ears. He didn’t turn his head, simply his eyes, and watched the lioness stand in a moment of silence as her cheeks flushed with color. Mission accomplished, but he certainly wasn’t done. She turned away like some frightened, embarrassed girl, and for a moment the Head Boy thought Lydia might be some kind of prude. “Now, I know you’ve seen a shirtless boy before,” he said mockingly, “and definitely a shirtless Slytherin.” His shirt slid down the lengths of his arms before it was folded and set beside another pile of clothes, neatly folded, and noticeably more casual than the uniform he was taking off. Without hesitation, while still watching Lydia’s backside as she turned away from him, Balthazar began unbuttoning his pants, and unzipping the fly loud enough for Lydia to hear, and by the time she turned around, his pants were open, exposing his boxer briefs. Just an added level of discomfort before he threw his pants off. But, he saved that, instead turning to fully face the head Girl. “Who exactly do you think you are?” What kind of question? “Do you think you’re on the same level as me or something? Maybe you’ve got the mistaken idea in your head that you’re Blyssenor and can do whatever you want and I won’t do anything about it.”

Putting people in their place was a process. Zar wanted to see if Lydia could figure out why he was upset with her before he just came out and said it. She’d done something to offend him personally; something that Blyssenor did regularly, but he lacked the conviction to correct. Blysse was a force all her own, and she required a level of preparation Lydia didn’t. When Blyssenor was replaced, Zar took it as his chance to take complete control, which he still had every intention of doing; he just had to put Ms. Elderwood in her place first. He intended for this to be the last time as well. “When I give someone detention, or any punishment at all, I expect it to stick, understand?” Footsteps brought him closer to Lydia, pants coming dangerously close to falling off his defined waist, but a cool demeanor kept while holding back the floodgates to a level of anger Lydia knew he was capable of. It was convenient that she was in detention to witness him handle Wesley Cotter, because now she new the extent of his ire, and he knew she wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of it. “When I heard you absolved a detention I gave, I was furious.” It was at these words that Zar finally stopped moving, close enough now to Lydia that he towered over her, and the heat from his body was ready to rush into her skin. His head was turned down, eyes fixed on her, bright despite the fact that no light was aimed at them. “But I calmed down, and you’re lucky I did… don’t do it again unless you want to find out what happens when I am furious. Got it?”

Every second with the Slytherin burned like acid in the pit of Lydia's stomach. Balthazar's very existence was enough to put the lioness on edge, yet this encounter - this meeting - was more than she ever desired to endure of the boy's presence. Even from across the room, it felt as if at any moment in time, the fifth year would choke on his ego, the boy's frustration and arrogance stifling the already humid atmosphere of the room. Perhaps it was all in her mind, but as Lydia glanced at the Head Boy, his every move calculated and smooth, his gaze cold and set, she was quite certain that this was not going to be a lighthearted conversation. Zar's comment about Max should have thrown her off. It would have thrown her off entirely had she not been expecting it every single day since it happened. It was common knowledge that Max and Zar were incredibly close, so it stood to reason that the Scottish wizard would have shared a few details about the night he bedded the silly virgin of a Gryffindor or whatever, but the fact that it hadn't been thrown in her face immediately had been a bit shocking. A relief at the time, sure... But snakes were crafty, and the extended silence only made the Gryffindor feel more and more nervous that one day it would all come out in a much more dreadful way than she could have ever imagined. Yet though she had been expecting, there was nothing to keep the simple comment from slicing its way into her heart, reopening the delicately scarred wound that the girl longed would disappear. Breathing in slowly, Lydia kept her arms crossed in front of her chest, focusing her attention for a few seconds on the act of breathing before she allowed herself a moment to speak. "Correct on both accounts, of course. Doesn't mean I want to see you shirtless though." The removal of his shirt had been one thing - boys were shirtless all the time - but the sudden zip of his fly as Zar unfastened his pants was something else entirely. Doing her best to keep her attention directed at the snake's face, Lydia stood there, her jaw set, completely silent until Balthazar continued to speak.

Lydia would never survive. If she managed to make it out of this stupid bathroom alive, it would be a miracle, but she would likely not finish out her fifth year if Zar had anything to say about it. On the one hand, the girl's thoughts seemed incredibly melodramatic, assuming the worst possible outcome of a silly argument between students. And yet, there was not a part of the witch that doubted the Slytherin's threats that hid quietly behind calmer, decisive words. It was clear enough that she had crossed his path, incited the anger that everyone knew only too well to burn just beneath the skin of the Head Boy. The knots in her stomach grew larger, twisting themselves into tighter tangles that pulled uncomfortably with every second that passed. Her face burned ice-hot. In the back of her mind floated a single thought that the next time she ran into Blyssenor, she would smack the vampire upside the head for leaving her in this position. Blysse could have handled this. She would have known the perfect retort, the best response to every jab and threat that Zar threw in her direction. Of course, the redhead would never have been in this position. Blysse was too good at this, too strong and capable to ever end up in a situation like this. Furthermore... Lydia looked at Zar for a moment, her gaze meeting his directly. A confrontation like this would likely never happen between Zar and Blysse because, from what her friend had shared with her, it was more than likely - Merlin, she was willing to bet it was true - that the Slytherin boy was attracted to Blysse in some way. Well, who wasn't? But still...

The realization - or at least the connection made at that moment - didn't change anything. Zar was still incredibly intimidating and more than a little dangerous, and Lydia was still standing there quietly, her cheeks painted a faint tinge of pink. She was still scared of the boy, still convinced that he could make her disappear with a snap of his fingers and she would be gone forever... yet perhaps it was simply that the Head Boy had been lowered a few notches in her mind. His attraction to Blysse... His crush... whatever it was, managed to humanize the boy in a way that Lydia never thought possible. Just a bit. But for the first time, the lioness imagined Balthazar so that he wasn't just some monster incapable of any scrap of emotion or decency. He was... a boy who had some serious temper and ego issues. Who also happened to have a crush on her best friend. It was... interesting. And confusing. Breathing in deeply, the witch swallowed the lump in her throat as the Slytherin boy moved closer, his pants barely clinging to his hips, threatening to slide to the floor with every step. If only this day were just over already. If only she could just return to the comfort of her tower and get away from this stupid, smarmy git of a snake. Honestly, it still baffled the lioness how anyone in their right mind would have ever chosen Balthazar Harkonen of all people to be Head Boy, but she supposed that money and influence could sway even the professors of this school. That was the only explanation that seemed remotely logical. He was practically towering over her by the time he fell quiet, the warmth of his body obvious thanks to his proximity. "No. I don't think we're on the same level," she began, her words little more than a whisper. "I'm quite certain that you're more skilled at magic than I am. Age and experience alone would show that to be true. I am also quite certain that I have more of a heart than you. This meeting shows that. The detentions you throw out right and left to students who do little more than exist in another house is proof of that." Lydia could feel her hands trembling as the frustration and nervous energy coursed through her body, and so she crossed her arms even tighter in front of her. "I am not Blyssenor and I never pretended to be. But if you'd expect anything less from either of us, you are terribly mistaken. Blyssenor wouldn't tolerate your needless bullying of the other students and I won't stand for it either. What you choose to do is up to you. But you're the Head Boy and I'm the Head Girl and if you continue doling out unwarranted detentions, then I will continue to revoke them." Her cheeks blazed brightly as the lioness grew angrier. Honestly... No, they were not on the same level, but Merlin, she was still the Head Girl. He was Head Boy and in that respect, they were very much on the same level.

Now if she could just go back and hide out in her dorm before the boy killed her... well, that would be nice. But the odds of that happening were definitely not in her favor.